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    Chant of a Million Women
    Chant of a Million Women
    Chant of a Million Women
    Ebook174 pages1 hour

    Chant of a Million Women

    By Shirani Rajapakse

    ()

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    About this ebook

    - A 2018 Kindle Book Awards Winner

    - A 2018 Readers' Favorite Awards Honorable Mention

    - A 2018 New Apple Summer eBook Awards for Excellence in Independent Publishing Official Selection

    Rajapakse explores identity, values and women's role in society through the poems in Chant of a Million Women. She also looks at the concepts of beauty and the standards imposed on women to conform. Some of the poems are hard hitting and take on subjects that are uncomfortable to talk about like rape, female gender mutilation, abuse and male dominance. She talks about power and the quiet force that keeps half the world moving even when there is no hope.

                                                                       

    The language is simple yet the thoughts and ideas are not. They rise from the depth of our very being to swirl through the pages compelling the reader to step into worlds created within the covers. There is magnificence and strength juxtaposed with violence and weakness as are other opposites such as the divine and human frailty. These poems are like a breath of fresh air, provoking, mesmerizing and entertaining.

    At our core is a chant,

    soft,

    like the susurrus of leaves only breezes

    understand.

    Sometimes it opens lips

    to sing like gurgling waters meandering

    from here to there, to wherever it flows,

    or the soft tread of footfalls

    on the path outside.

    But sometimes,

    it's a roar so loud

    thunder stops in its tracks

    in awe.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShirani Rajapakse
    Release dateAug 21, 2017
    ISBN9789553828514
    Chant of a Million Women

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      Book preview

      Chant of a Million Women - Shirani Rajapakse

      Copyright

      Copyright © 2017 Shirani Rajapakse

      Published by Shirani Rajapakse

      The right of Shirani Rajapakse to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with International Copyright Treaties and Conventions.

      All rights reserved. Except for short excerpts for use in reviews and other non-commercial uses as deemed fit by law, no part of this work may be translated, reproduced, distributed or transmitted in electronic or mechanical form including, but not limited to photocopying, recording,  scanning or in any form or by any other means now known or hereafter invented, or uploaded and distributed via the internet, or stored in a database or introduced into a retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this work may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damage.

      Cover image by Shirani Rajapakse

      Cover designed by FayeFayeDesigns

      Both the print and ebook are sold subject to the condition that they shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      First Published in 2017

      Paperback: ISBN: 978-955-38285-0-7

      eBook: ISBN: 978-955-38285-1-4

      1. Poetry. 2. Poems—21st century. 3. Women. 4. Woman—power.

      5. Woman—abuse. 6. Asian Writer. 7. Shirani Rajapakse.

      For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, or to translate, write to Shirani Rajapakse Image result for gmail icon   Image result for hotmail icon

      Also by the Author

      Breaking News (Vijitha Yapa 2011) (short stories)

      To

      my grandmother,

      my mother,

      and

      my aunts.

      Acknowledgements

      Acknowledgements are due to the following print and online journals, and anthologies where these poems first appeared:

      Asian Cha, Hong Kong (Questions Left Unanswered – Winner, ‘Betrayal’ Poetry Contest 2013); Asian Signature, India (Unwanted Visitors); Berfrois, UK (At the Café); Dagda, UK (Alone One Evening); Dove Tales, USA (Lost in Thought); Earthen Lamp Journal, India (Dream of the Housemaid, Loneliness); Lakeview, India (Earth Song); Mascara Literary Review, Australia (Games People Play); New Verse News, USA/Indonesia (Occupy Wall Street); Poetica Magazine, USA (The Shower - Finalist, Anna Davidson Rosenberg Award 2013); Poet’s Basement, USA (Misunderstanding); Skylight 47, Ireland (Unwanted); Verses in Motion, USA (I Live in Dreams- radio show); Voices Israel Poetry, Israel (The Violinist); Wordshark blog, USA (Inside the Old Room).

      With thanks to

      ––––––––

      Dr. Lakshmi de Silva,

      lecturer and mentor,

      for helping select the poems for this

      collection and the many years of advice.

      At the Side of the Old Mandir

      They come to this place every day

      to touch you.

      Lonely men with desires unfulfilled.

      Can’t afford the real thing, costs too much

      these days, a glance, a caress.

      They can barely afford food for the day.

      ––––––––

      You’re the best they can have;

      voluptuousness in stone.

      They ogle and marvel, then

      gradually draw nearer.

      A furtive glance in every direction to check

      if anyone’s watching and a hand

      lifts up to cup a breast.

      Human and rock merge for a blissful moment.

      An eternity passes as time

      drags itself to a screeching halt.

      Sighs of contentment escape.

      ––––––––

      Satiated temporarily,

      they return to a place at a distance,

      to admire and hope.

      ––––––––

      Later, moving inside they speak to God, plead

      with him, cajole, sometimes demand.

      Karma always questioned in times like this.

      A truth hard to accept.

      The reasons why never defined, lying hidden

      in the cosmic ether beyond their

      comprehension.

      ––––––––

      Your breasts are a shade darker than

      the rest of your body,

      colored from constant caresses of

      lonesome men seeking stolen pleasures.

      A slow smile playing on your lips, one arm

      resting on a hip pushed out to the side,

      the other raised from the elbow,

      fingers encircling lotus, you stand waiting

      for what might be, as they shuffle past,

      circumambulating

      like the devout, softly singing praise

      of the one within.

      Quietly taking in their fill they return to

      homes devoid of love and desire.

      ––––––––

      Who are you,

      proud woman standing nonchalantly

      gazing into the distance as they walk past?

      What was your fate?

      Willed by the hand that chiseled

      you from a large rock hewn out from

      another place one sunny day eons ago.

      Who was the man that yearned for you so,

      he cast you in stone in remembrance

      to watch over the years

      and give hope to

      a multitude of desperate souls?

      I Live in Dreams

      I live in dreams.

      I walk on asphalt. Hard and dry.

      Yet I soar. My mind unfettered by

      the claiming of reality.

      ––––––––

      I live in two worlds, one

      real and the other almost real.

      They mingle into each other

      sometimes making it hard

      to define each one.

      ––––––––

      My dreams ease the burden

      of life, tough as the asphalt that

      hurt the soles of my feet as

      they trudge along, day in, day out.

      Is there no release from

      this reality, this pain?

      ––––––––

      Except in dreams, when I live

      I am me. The real person I

      was meant to be.

      But cannot be.

      Reality hems me in defining

      life as it should be.

      Not as it ought to be.

      Lost in Thought

      She stared at the people passing on

      the street before her. A myriad

      colors and shapes

      wafted by, some hurrying some moving

      slowly, but all going somewhere.

      ––––––––

      She moved with them,

      ––––––––

      although her feet did not leave the space

      she was in. She sat there staring,

      but her mind was rushing faster

      than the people on the street.

      Where was she

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